Pleasure of a Dark Prince
Pleasure of a Dark Prince (Immortals After Dark #9)(67)
Author: Kresley Cole
"So we’re no’ to wake a big evil," MacRieve said as they gradually made their way back to the necropolis. Though she could tell he was still in a great deal of pain, he’d insisted that they gear up and set out by noon.
On the way down, she’d filled him in on everything Nïx had said and they’d speculated on everything she hadn’t said. For instance, though the soothsayer had never actually confirmed the panteón was the tomb in question, they’d still grown convinced that the dieumort was there. It had to be in the tomb Damiãno had been talking about – the one that had hieroglyphs of gold.
"Who do you think Damiãno worked for?" Lucia asked. "If he was the guardian of this place, then who hired him?"
"Doona know. Maybe he’s a descendant of the people who lived here."
"Do you really think he hacked up those passengers?" She kept recalling the look on his face when MacRieve had accused him. Had there been a brief flicker of surprise?
"If no’ him, then who? He wanted to prevent anyone from getting close to this place, and the Barão was right behind us."
"That’s true," she said, seeing MacRieve’s reasoning. So why was she unconvinced…?
Just as they reached the central expanse and started on the cobblestone walk, a new text message arrived.
RegRad: BTW, that "darkness" Skathi went on about w/ U = UR being a Valkyrie, DUMBASS!
"Regin is texting you?" MacRieve shook his head. "Now?"
"She doesn’t know this is a… momentous time."
He sputtered, "Aye, but why’re you texting her back?"
"Have to. This has been a long time coming." Lucia replied: I’m about 2 go play Tomb Raider… but it’s REAL. Bet U wish U were here. HOOKER!
She finished with a satisfied grin – that lasted until Regin responded. RegRad: Why’re U being so mean? I wanna play TR, too.
Lucia sighed, deciding then to make all this up to her sister. When she returned to New Orleans, she’d buy Regin something nice. Maybe a gaming chair, or a new sword.
MacRieve said, "My brother told me that to win you, I’d have to… deal with Regin."
Win me? Lucia had thought it impossible for so long that she was taken aback now. He could win her. But Lachlain was right – Regin was a part of her life and always would be. "Well, she and I had planned to live out our immortality in adjacent mansions on some seashore. Since we were kids. But I’m sure anyone would think she’s a fine neighbor."
"Neighbor, then?" He almost stifled his grimace.
Yes, there was bad blood between him and her sister. But Lucia now knew that MacRieve could be remarkably forgiving….
Once they reached the tomb, he hacked at the cloaking vines with his claws, tearing them away until they found what appeared to be an entranceway – a slab of unbroken stone, probably eight feet square.
A smoothed knob of rock jutted out beside it. "Check that out," she said. "It looks like a dial." Carved all around it were more hieroglyphs, expanding out in a circular pattern.
"So which way do we turn it?" MacRieve asked. "Seems to me this could go really bad. Go the wrong way…"
"I saw a movie once where someone’s hand got trapped around a knob, then sliced off. How attached are you to your paws?"
He gave her ass a quick squeeze. "No’ as much as you were last night."
"Werewolf! Wait, I’ve got an idea." She took out her phone, scrolling through her address book.
"Who are you calling?"
"Language specialist."
He stepped back, gazing at the scene. "Doona think this is Mayan or Incan."
"I know someone who’s omnilingual."
"Omni?"
"She knows every language in the world and adjoining planes."
He raised his brows as if he were impressed, until she added, "A female called Tera the Fey." When he glowered, she said, "What is it?"
"Nothing. How do you know her?"
"We were competitors in the immortal tournaments of old."
Lucia’s half sister Atalanta would compete in the foot races, Kaderin the Coldhearted at swords, and Lucia at the bow. They’d dominated.
And Lucia had smack-talked Tera unmercifully.
Still, with nothing to lose, she rang the number.
"Valkyrie," Tera said in a cool greeting.
"Tera, I need a favor. I need you to translate something."
"Indeed. And why should I help you?"
Lucia said, "To stop an apocalypse." Then she explained where she and MacRieve were and the highlights of the threat.
Once she’d finished, Tera sighed. "Can you take a picture of the symbols and e-mail them?"
"What’s your e-mail addy?" Lucia asked.
"Hmm. Thegreatestarcherever at gmail dot com."
"Surely the greatest archer ever had already taken that one?"
Tera said tightly, "Terafey at thenoblefey dot com."
"Pics are on their way." After she’d hung up, Lucia used her phone to snap photographs of the hieroglyphs, then e-mailed them.
Tera wrote back directly. I’ll call shortly. P.S.: Tell werewolf I want my quiver back.
Lucia faced MacRieve with raised brows. "Tera says she wants her quiver back."
He cast her an innocent expression. "Huh? What? Bluidy daft fey…"
The phone rang within five minutes. Lucia turned on the speaker feature.
"Congratulations. You’ve discovered a previously unidentified language," Tera said. "It’s logosyllabic, combining about three hundred syllabograms, which represent syllables, and eight hundred logograms – whole words."
"Right, whatever. What does it say?"
"There are three warnings. First, you’re not to get any kind of moisture upon the watchers’… husks. Second, do not disturb the Gilded One’s rest. And third, no gold leaves the confines of the tomb. Basically, be dry, don’t take any gold, and hands-off the important dead person inside."
The Gilded One was within!
"Or what?" MacReive asked. "How are these enforced?"
"Or tragedy awaits," Tera said. "We’re likely talking ancient loss-prevention technology – booby traps. So essentially, the fate of the world rests in the hands of a sticky-fingered Lykae and an avaricious Valkyrie about to enter a tomb of off-limits gold. I believe I’ll be going out tonight – "
"Just tell us how to get in," he interrupted.
"Turn the dial to the right, then immediately left, then back to the right."
"How sure are you?" he asked.
"As certain as I am that Lucia’s wearing my quiver strapped to her leg right now."